Professional Psychology: Research and Practice © 2009 American Psychological Association

2009, Vol. 40, No. 1, 22–30 0735-7028/09/$12.00 DOI: 10.1037/a0014745

Psychotherapist Self-Disclosure and Transparency in the Internet Age

Ofer Zur Martin H. Williams

Zur Institute, LLC San Jose and Los Angeles, California

Keren Lehavot Samuel Knapp

University of Washington Pennsylvania Psychological Association

All psychotherapists engage in self-disclosure with their clients. At times it may be deliberate or nondeliberate,
verbal or nonverbal, and avoidable or unavoidable. Yet, modern-day Internet technologies have redefined the
This article is intended solely for the personal use of the individual user and is not to be disseminated broadly.

meaning and applications of self-disclosure and transparency in psychotherapy. Consumers of mental health
This document is copyrighted by the American Psychological Association or one of its allied publishers.

services can easily access large amounts of information about their psychologists. Clients’ online searches
about their psychotherapists may range from normal curiosity to criminal stalking. Following an examination
of these issues, three invited experts share their commentaries on the issues raised. A historical review of
self-disclosure in the mental health professions and the opposition of many theorists and practitioners to its use
are provided. Further, the roles of Internet social networking and online communities for psychotherapists and
their clients and prospective clients are explored, along with the clinical meaning of the ever-increasing digital
transparencies of psychologists, trainees, and clients. Advice is provided for how to view, understand, and
consider web postings by psychotherapists, clients, and others. Implications for clinical practice and training
are provided along with recommendations for how to effectively address issues of digital transparency.

Keywords: ethics, Internet, self-disclosure, social networks, transparency

Self-disclosure in psychotherapy is defined as the revelation of
personal rather than professional information by a psychotherapist
to a client. Generally, when a psychotherapist’s disclosure goes
beyond the basic professional disclosure of name, credentials, fees,
OFER ZUR received his PhD in psychology from the Wright Institute in
1984. He maintains an independent psychotherapy and forensic practice in
Sonoma, CA. He is the author of four books, of which the latest is
Boundaries in Psychotherapy, published by APA Books in 2007. He is the
director of the Zur Institute, LLC, which offers over 100 online continuing
education courses for psychologists.
MARTIN H. WILLIAMS received his PhD in clinical psychology from the
University of California, Berkeley. He maintains a full-time independent
practice in forensic psychology, providing testimony on psychotherapy stan-
dard of care, emotional damage claims, fitness for duty, parental competence,
competency to stand trial, and insanity defense. He is a member of the Forensic
Evaluation Panel of the Superior Court of California and is a coauthor of the
book, “Surviving a licensing complaint: What to do, what not to do.”
KEREN LEHAVOT is a graduate student in clinical psychology at the Uni-
versity of Washington. Her research interests span the areas of psychology
of women, lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender issues, and ethical
issues. She was the 2007 winner of the APA Ethics Prize on the topic of
ethical dilemmas posed by the Internet.
SAMUEL KNAPP received his EdD from Lehigh University in counseling. He
has been the director of professional affairs for the Pennsylvania Psycho-
logical Association since 1987. His areas of scholarly interest include
ethics, legal issues, and professional practice issues for psychologists.
Ofer Zur, Zur Institute, LLC, Sonoma, California; Martin H. Williams, San
Jose and Los Angeles, California; Keren Lehavot, University of Washing-
ton; Samuel Knapp, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
CORRESPONDENCE CONCERNING THIS ARTICLE should be addressed to Ofer
Zur, Sonoma Medical Plaza, 181 Andrieux St., Suite #212, Sonoma, CA
95476. E-mail: drzur@zurinstitute.com
emergency contacts, cancellation policies, and similar information
that appears in the “office policies” or “informed consent to
treatment,” it is considered self-disclosure (Farber, 2006; Stricker
& Fisher, 1990; Zur, 2007). While self-disclosure is often narrowly
viewed as personal information that psychologists intentionally
and verbally reveal to their clients, actually it is much broader than
that (Bloomgarden & Mennuti, in press; Knox, Hess, Petersen, &
Hill, 1997). Self-disclosure in the context of psychotherapy, or
what has been referred to as psychotherapists’ transparency (Jou-
rard, 1971), also includes nonverbal and unintentional disclosure.
Transparency, in this article, refers to the total information that is
available to clients about their psychotherapists, regardless of how
clients acquire this information. As this article articulates, the
Internet has irreversibly changed the nature of self-disclosure and
psychotherapists’ transparency.
Case Examples
The following fictitious cases present a sampling of different
types of self-disclosure:
● A psychologist reveals to a client that she also has experienced
suicidal ideation.
● A psychologist announces to his clients that he will undergo
heart surgery in the next month.
● A client notices that her psychotherapist is pregnant.
● While enjoying himself at the local farmers’ market with his
family, a psychologist bumps into his client.
● A psychotherapist steps naked out of the locker room shower
in the local gym and finds himself face-to-face with a client, also
naked.
● A client reveals to her psychotherapist that she read the
clinician’s online posting about a neighborhood dispute.

22
 PSYCHOTHERAPISTS’ SELF-DISCLOSURE
● A client tells his psychologist that he found her home address
online.
● A client tells her psychologist that she saw a video camera clip
of her swimming at a local beach.
● A client tells his psychologist that he has paid for an online
search that provided him with the psychologist’s social security
number, cell phone records for the last couple of years, and recent
Internal Revenue Service tax returns.
As illustrated in the above examples, psychotherapists’ self-
disclosure can be intentional or unintentional, deliberate or acci-
dental, verbal or nonverbal, and avoidable or unavoidable. Psy-
chotherapists’ transparency can either be the result of
professionals’ self-disclosure or achieved by clients’ inquiries.
With the click of a mouse, clients can find a wealth of information
This article is intended solely for the personal use of the individual user and is not to be disseminated broadly.
This document is copyrighted by the American Psychological Association or one of its allied publishers.
about their psychologists online. Some personal information about
the clinician may be available to the client without the psycho-
therapist’s knowledge or approval.
This article reviews the various kinds of self-disclosure, details
how the meaning of self-disclosure can only be understood within
the context of psychotherapy, and emphasizes the importance of
intentional self-disclosure being done solely for the benefit of the
client. It describes how modern day Internet technologies have
redefined the meaning and applications of self-disclosure and
transparency in psychotherapy.
Types of Self-Disclosure
Following are brief descriptions of three different types of
self-disclosure. It is important to note that sometimes the examples
given for these types of self-disclosure seem to overlap or even
contradict each other, in which case the psychotherapist’s inten-
tion— or lack thereof—is the key.
Deliberate Self-Disclosure
The deliberate form of self-disclosure is probably the one that
clinicians most readily identify as self-disclosure. This type refers
to the intentional disclosure by the clinician of personal informa-
tion and can be verbal or nonverbal. Deliberate verbal self-
disclosure takes place when clinicians intentionally share personal
information with their clients about themselves, which may in-
clude information about their marital status, parenthood, age, spir-
itual orientation, personal history, sexual orientation, vacation
destination, and the like. Nonverbal deliberate self-disclosure re-
fers to intentional actions, such as placing a certain family photo-
graph in the office, or a response of delight or disgust that reveals
personal attitudes or values. This would also include intentionally
wearing certain attire, religious symbols, or jewelry (Barnett,
1998; Farber, 2006; Gutheil & Gabbard, 1993; Zur, 2007).
Another form of deliberate self-disclosure is related to the
increasing numbers of psychotherapists posting professional
and/or personal Web pages online, or posting extensive biogra-
phies on the Web sites of their clinics, agencies, health mainte-
nance organizations, or hospitals. Clients in the 21st century are
accustomed to viewing themselves as “consumers” rather than
“patients” or “clients” and feel entitled to a wide range of infor-
mation about their caregivers—including mental health provid-
ers—so they can make informed decisions regarding their own
23
care (Zur, 2007; 2008). Obviously, the Internet is often where they
turn to find such information.
Unavoidable Self-Disclosure
In contrast to the first type, this second type of disclosure refers
to disclosure that is neither deliberate nor avoidable. Unavoidable
self-disclosures are part of everyday life and are related to personal
appearance, office décor, and home-office accoutrements, and are
integral part of life in a small community.
Unavoidable, “everyday life” self-disclosures include a wide
range of natural or routine disclosures about the clinician, such as
gender, age, a readily recognizable disability, and the like (Bloom-
garden & Mennuti, in press; Farber, 2006; Stricker & Fisher,
1990). They also include a wide array of personal expressions,
such as manner of dress, hairstyle, use of make-up or lack of,
presence or absence of jewelry, or wedding rings or lack of
(Barnett, 1998; Zur, 2007). Obviously, these revelations can be
deliberate acts of self-disclosure but can also be more incidental
everyday expressions of personal taste or cultural identity. In the
last few decades, psychoanalytic psychotherapists, who have tra-
ditionally emphasized the importance of neutrality and the avoid-
ance of transparency, have also come to terms with the fact that
self-disclosure is much more than intentional verbal disclosure,
and that numerous varieties of self-disclosure are unavoidable (i.e.,
Renik, 1996).
Unavoidable self-disclosure also involves body language or
spontaneous expressions, such as a raised eyebrow, a frown, ex-
pressions of surprise, joy, or disgust (Knox et al, 1997). All are
also sources of self-disclosure that are neither always deliberate
nor always under the psychotherapist’s full control. Personal an-
nouncements, such as an upcoming time away from the office also
constitute unavoidable self-disclosures.
Certain settings generate unavoidable or “forced” self-
disclosure. When the psychotherapy office is located at the clini-
cian’s home, it always involves an array of self-disclosures, such
as economic status, information about the family, personal taste,
and much more (Zur, 2007). In small or rural communities, remote
military bases, or intimate and interconnected spiritual, ethnic,
lesbian-gay-bisexual-transgender, underprivileged, disabled, or
college communities ,clinicians must contend with extensive trans-
parency. In many of these situations, a psychotherapist’s marital
status, family details, religion, political affiliation, sexual orienta-
tion, and other personal information may be readily available to
clients (Farber, 2006; Schank & Skovlholt, 2006; Zur, 2006). It is
important to note that small communities are not limited to rural or
physically isolated communities and can also be found within
large, metropolitan areas. In addition, clinicians who conduct
adventure therapy, home visits, or in-vivo desensitization are often
in situations where many aspects of their personal and private lives
are revealed. These may include eating and drinking habits and
comfort level in different social and other situations (Zur, 2008).
Accidental Self-Disclosure
Accidental disclosure, which happens to reveal some personal
information about the psychologist to his or her clients, may
include a clinician’s unplanned emotional, negative, or positive
response to a client’s surprise announcement of a decision to get
 24 ZUR, WILLIAMS, LEHAVOT, AND KNAPP
married, quit a job, or discontinue treatment. Or, it might be when
a client unexpectedly witnesses the psychotherapist in a public
place.
Propriety of Self-Disclosure
Psychotherapist self-disclosure can be appropriate, benign, or
inappropriate. Appropriate, ethical, and clinically driven self-
disclosures are intentionally employed with the client’s welfare in
mind and with a clinical rationale. Psychotherapists disclosing to
clients that they also served in battle, have raised teenagers, or lost
a parent may help clients feel better understood and may help to
enhance the therapeutic alliance.
This article is intended solely for the personal use of the individual user and is not to be disseminated broadly.
Benign self-disclosure refers to a wide range of deliberate and
This document is copyrighted by the American Psychological Association or one of its allied publishers.
nondeliberate or avoidable and unavoidable self-disclosures. These
are often part of everyday disclosures, such accent, skin color,
mannerisms, office decor, and the like. All are normal parts of
human existence and human relationships, but nevertheless may
have clinical significance that clinicians may need to take into
account.
Inappropriate or unethical types of disclosure are those that
mostly benefit the clinician rather than the client. An example
might be when a newly divorced psychotherapist discusses per-
sonal feelings of loneliness in order to gain the client’s empathy
and support or, worse, when a psychotherapist reveals a sexual
attraction to a client. These kinds of unethical disclosures burden
the client with unnecessary information about the clinician or
create a role reversal where a client, inappropriately, takes care of
the psychotherapist (Gutheil & Gabbard, 1993; Knox et al., 1997;
Stricker & Fisher, 1990; Zur, 2007).
Self-Disclosure in Context
The meaning of self-disclosure can generally only be under-
stood and assessed within the context of psychotherapy (Lazarus &
Zur, 2002; Younggren & Gottlieb, 2004). The context of treatment
includes client, setting, psychotherapy, and psychotherapist factors
(Zur, 2007). Treatment of veterans, for example, or those who are
in 12-step programs, or clients of certain ethnic minorities may
require extensive self-disclosure by the psychotherapist in order to
create basic trust. Rigid avoidance of any self-disclosure may
appear cold and impersonal to young clients and may be counter-
clinical with clients of certain cultures. Disclosures that are appro-
priate with young children or in group treatment may not be
appropriate in individual psychotherapy with some adults.
As was noted above, certain communities expect high levels of
psychotherapists’ transparencies. Humanistic, Existential, Femi-
nist, and Group psychotherapies emphasize the importance of
self-disclosure in enhancing authentic therapeutic alliance— best
predictor of therapeutic outcome—and in fostering a more egali-
tarian relationship (Jourard, 1971; Stricker & Fisher, 1990; Wil-
liams, 1997). Cognitive-Behavioral psychotherapists may use self-
disclosure for modeling or normalizing purposes. Similarly,
Family, Ericksonian, Narrative, and Adlerian psychotherapies use
it for the purposes of modeling and other clinical reasons (Stricker
& Fisher, 1990). Besides their theoretical orientation, psychother-
apists’ culture, style, and professional socialization often deter-
mine to what extent they would employ self-disclosure.
The Google Factor: Psychotherapists’ Transparencies
That Are Initiated by Clients
The professional literature has sporadically discussed situations
in which curious clients have inquired about their psychotherapists
in the community. More determined clients have been reported to
have obtained the clinician’s home address and to have driven by
their home. Jealous, obsessed, or vindictive clients have been
reported illegally stalking their psychotherapists and/or their fam-
ilies (Galeazzi, Elkins, & Curci, 2005). The Internet has hugely
expanded clients’ access to personal information about their psy-
chotherapists. In fact, the Internet blurs the line between what is
personal and what is professional, as well as between self-
disclosure and transparency. With the click of a mouse, most
psychotherapists’ personal lives can be easily viewed. Behnke
(2008) accurately asserts that not only is there not a clear line
between the personal or private domain and the professional do-
main, but, he also reflects, “In the space of a few years, the realm
of what is private has receded significantly with a corresponding
expansion in the domain of what is public” (p. 75).
Over the last decades, and clearly in the 21st century, a new
consumer culture has emerged characterized by client expectations
and demands for psychotherapist transparency. Today, as we have
recognized, many of those we have habitually called clients or
patients consider themselves to be consumers first. As consumers,
they want to know what they are getting for their money, whether
it is a car, a cruise, or a psychotherapist. These consumers take
increased interest and responsibility for their well being and con-
sequently want indepth information, i.e. transparency, about those
providing them with care. The Internet is the well from which they
draw most of their information in the 21st century (Zur, 2007;
2008). Complementing this trend is the “bare it all” culture epit-
omized by television programs such as The Oprah Winfrey Show
and Dr. Phil, and television “reality shows.” A natural outgrowth
of this fashion is that a growing number of health-related institu-
tions are posting professional web pages replete with professional
and personal information about their individual practitioners. Con-
sistent with this development, increasing numbers of private prac-
titioners post their own professional Web sites, which often in-
clude personal information as a way to appear “consumer friendly”
and accessible to clients who are becoming more informed and
more selective (Zur, 2008).
There are a number of ways that clients can go about research-
ing information about their psychotherapists online. Clients’ abil-
ity to find data about psychotherapists is, in the view of this article,
the heart of psychotherapist transparency. Following are descrip-
tions of six levels at which clients may explore or inquire about
their psychotherapists online.
At the first level of clients’ search for information about their
practitioners, the current or potential clients may review the clini-
cians’ own professional Web sites, mentioned above. The Web
addresses for these sites may appear on the psychotherapists’
business cards, clinics’ or institutions’ home pages, or other mar-
keting material. Clients usually will review these home pages for
the purpose of gathering background information about the clini-
cian. Such reviews have become very common and even expected
in the modern digital era. These professional Web sites often
provide not only information about psychotherapists’ degrees,
licenses, and professional experience, but often also their photo-
 PSYCHOTHERAPISTS’ SELF-DISCLOSURE
graphs, listings of hobbies, and other personal information. Pre-
senting oneself online as a friendly, warm, and competent clinician
is considered a basic marketing strategy in our digital era.
The second level is when clients conduct an Internet search or
“Google” their current or potential psychotherapist. This is a
routine and due diligence approach for most informed modern
consumers. It is likely to unearth a wealth of information that was
posted by the psychotherapist, or by others with or without the
clinician’s knowledge. Through a simple Internet search, a client
may readily find out the psychotherapist’s home address; details
about family members; sexual orientation; volunteer activities;
political affiliation; lawsuits; or licensing board sanctions or com-
plaints. With cyber speed, clients can find their psychotherapists’
This article is intended solely for the personal use of the individual user and is not to be disseminated broadly.
postings on a variety of Web sites and personal blogs and can
This document is copyrighted by the American Psychological Association or one of its allied publishers.
uncover former clients’ commendations, complaints, accusations,
and criticisms.
The third level of clients’ ways to find information about their
psychotherapists is by joining social networks, such as Tribe.net
(http://wichita.tribe.net), Facebook (www.facebook.com), or
MySpace (www.myspace.com). This can be benign but also can be
less than benign when a client befriends the psychotherapist by
using a pseudonym. Highly curious and intrusive clients may join
social networks, using just this ploy, and, under an assumed name,
befriend the clinician and, unknown to the clinician, be privy to
very personal and private information about their psychotherapist.
Joining professional listservs and chatrooms where clinicians
are active is the fourth level of client exploration. Clients can join
many listservs using a false identity quite easily. Once clients join
the networks, they can readily read therapists’ postings, especially
on the open sites, and may be privy to information about other
clients of psychotherapists, and ethical or unethical conduct by
their psychotherapist. Perhaps they may even be able to recognize
postings detailing their own treatment.
The fifth level of search is when clients pay for specialized but
legal online background checks. This rather intrusive, however
legal, approach relies on public access records. Such a search can
open psychotherapists’ divorce documents, number of marriages,
former addresses, and criminal records to the client.
The sixth and most intrusive level involves hiring a firm to
conduct an illegal and highly invasive search and what may be
considered cyber stalking. Using this approach, clients may gain
access to information, such as financial and tax records, sealed
criminal records, and even years’ worth of cell phone records.
Summary and Recommendations
Self-disclosure is a broad term that includes psychotherapists’
verbal and nonverbal, intentional and unintentional, avoidable and
unavoidable disclosures about themselves and their lives. The
meaning of self-disclosure can commonly be understood only
within the context of psychotherapy, which includes client, setting,
type of psychotherapy, and psychotherapist factors. Self-
disclosures that are clinically appropriate in one context may not
be in another. Some treatment plans may call for extensive self-
disclosure while others may call for minimal self-disclosure. In-
tentional self-disclosures must be constructed to enhance the treat-
ment plan and must first and foremost be considerate of the client’s
welfare.
25
Clinicians must ensure that the self-disclosures are not done to
fulfill their needs but rather those of the clients. Clinically driven
self-disclosure that is done for the welfare of the client can be very
beneficial for treatment and can enhance therapeutic alliance,
the best predictor of therapeutic outcome. Any form of extensive
self-disclosure, whether intentional or unintentional, should
be documented and its clinical meaning should be discussed in the
clinical records.
Our modern “bare it all” culture and the fact that many mental
health clients view themselves as informed consumers rather than
“patients” have created an expectation of caregivers’ transparency.
Digital technologies have significantly increased psychotherapist
transparency and have drastically changed the playing field. Cli-
nicians must be aware that all their online postings, blogs, or chats
may be viewed by their clients and will stay online, in some form,
forever. They should search themselves online periodically by
simply putting their names, in different combinations (i.e., Dr.
Smith, Smith, PhD, or Jane Smith), into a Google search. Another
easy way to keep track of one’s online presence is by signing up
for “Google Alerts” (at http://www.google.com/alerts?hl ⫽ en) in
order to get instant alerts when one’s name is mentioned in a new
posting. When clients intrude into clinicians’ personal lives, clini-
cians should consider the clinical, ethical, and legal implications
and, if necessary, consult with their professional association, ex-
perts in the field, and a knowledgeable attorney, if necessary.
Removing inaccurate, negative or slanderous material from the
Internet can be very challenging and may require professional or
legal assistance.
The effect of the Internet on self-disclosure and clinical practice
has yet to be fully understood and thoroughly studied. The three
invited expert commentaries to follow address these and related
challenges, issues, and dilemmas that psychologists face regarding
self-disclosure, in general, and specifically in the Internet age.
References
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How Self-Disclosure Got a Bad Name
Martin H. Williams
Williams Psychological Services, San Jose and
Los Angeles, California
Zur’s excellent discussion of self-disclosure revisits an area
already considered by the author (Zur, 2007) but this time focuses
on the contribution of the Internet to psychotherapist self-
disclosure. Zur argues that the existence and nature of the Internet
renders false the traditional assumption that facts about the per-
sonal life of the psychotherapist will passively remain private.
Clinicians who have no interest in self-disclosure or who may be
dead-set against self-disclosure, may nevertheless find reams of
information about their personal lives disclosed on the Internet and
accessible to their patients. As the Internet continues to expand to
contain increasing amounts of publicly available information, psy-
chotherapists may find their traditional expectation of their own
anonymity to be dated, if not archaic. The question becomes not
whether to self-disclose, but how to manage the Internet-driven
self-disclosure that has become almost inevitable.
If psychotherapist self-disclosure is nearly inevitable, is it a bad
thing? The first question to address is why self-disclosure became
a source of concern in our profession. Why would Zur, or anyone,
feel the need to defend and justify self-disclosure—a nearly ubiq-
uitous psychotherapeutic technique (Pope, Tabachnick, & Keith-
Spiegel, 1987)? The answer to this question involves two divergent
forces that shaped the attitudes of generations of psychotherapists:
one was the utter condemnation of self-disclosure within classical
psychoanalytic teachings (e.g., Greenson, 1967), and the other has
been a campaign of risk-management training seminars, often
sponsored by malpractice insurers (Zur, 2007). These two forces
had disparate reasons to condemn self-disclosure, but the result has
been to give self-disclosure such a deep and lasting negative
connotation that Zur would need to defend this useful therapeutic
method.
Theoretical Disputes
Self-disclosure already had a bad name before there was an
APA Ethics Code, which dates from 1952, or an Ethics Commit-
tee, which dates from 1938 (Pope & Vasquez, 2007). Back in the
days when psychoanalysis (e.g., Greenson, 1967) and psychoana-
lytic psychotherapy (e.g., Alexander and French, 1946) dominated
psychotherapeutic practice, self-disclosure was considered an am-
ateurish technical error. Psychoanalytic thinkers were not terribly
concerned about self-disclosure with regard to boundaries or eth-
ics. Instead their concern was that factual information about the
person of the psychotherapist would prevent the patient from
developing and projecting the transferential fantasies that were the
centerpiece of treatment. The more the patient knew about the real
life of the psychotherapist, the less the patient would be able to
project his or her neurotic fantasies onto the psychotherapist, and
the less therapeutic progress would be made. For example, if the
psychotherapist were to self-disclose, “I sometimes worry about
paying my bills, too”—a statement that could make the patient feel
less ashamed while discussing financial shortcomings—that state-
ment would curtail the patient’s ability to develop fantasies about
the psychotherapist’s financial situation. The psychotherapist
should disclose nothing that might interfere with the patient’s
development of fantasies that the psychotherapist is a person of
unlimited wealth, is absolutely destitute, or is anything in between.
Anything the clinician self-disclosed, in nearly any realm, would
inhibit the patient’s fantasies and interfere with treatment. If the
psychotherapist even disclosed that he or she were married by
displaying a family photo in the office, that would inhibit the
patient’s fantasies that the psychotherapist might be single, sexu-
ally available, gay, widowed, divorced or even living in a polyg-
amous commune. Psychotherapist opacity was necessary for the
classical psychoanalytic method to be effective.
In sharp contrast to the classical psychoanalytic approach, be-
havior therapy (e.g., Marquis, 1972) and humanistic therapies
(e.g., Jourard, 1971) supported self-disclosure from their inception.
While the former approach found self-disclosure something to
humanize the therapeutic relationship and make it warmer, without
interfering with treatment, the latter approach actually relied on
self-disclosure as a curative technique. Both emerging approaches
fought a defensive battle over their support of self-disclosure—a
battle that would never have needed fighting had the Freudians not
given self-disclosure a bad name. Ironically, even modern psycho-
analysts do not necessarily repudiate self-disclosure. As Stricker
(1990) states, “Contemporary developments in psychoanalytic the-
ory allow for the possibility of therapist self-disclosure, leaving
unanswered questions concerning the choice, timing and amount
of material to disclose” (p. 279).
Proof That Sex Had Occurred
Self-disclosure may ultimately have recovered from the taint
given to it by classical psychoanalysis once that treatment modal-
ity ceased to dominate the therapeutic landscape. However, an-
other force arose to challenge self-disclosure. Self-disclosure went
from a debatable therapeutic technique to a malpractice risk; it
became a topic for civil litigation. It is mostly because of this that
Zur now tries to rehabilitate this method—no longer because of
psychoanalysts but because of attorneys, not due to theoretical
issues but due to issues of ethics and risk.
 PSYCHOTHERAPISTS’ SELF-DISCLOSURE
Self-disclosure was useful to plaintiffs who sued psychothera-
pists with claims of psychotherapist-patient sex (Williams, 1997).
In some of these cases, there was no clear proof that sex had
occurred, as the psychotherapist denied it. If testimony could
establish that excessive self-disclosure had occurred, i.e., if the
patient-plaintiff knew an extraordinary amount of information
about the psychotherapist’s personal life, that would buttress the
argument that the patient had such detailed knowledge of the
psychotherapist only because patient and psychotherapist had been
so close as to have been sexually intimate. Self-disclosure became
the smoking gun that seemed to prove that illicit sexual contact—
denied by the defendant— had actually occurred. Indeed, the more
personal was the information possessed by the plaintiff, the more
likely, it seemed, that psychotherapist and patient had been sexu-
This article is intended solely for the personal use of the individual user and is not to be disseminated broadly.
This document is copyrighted by the American Psychological Association or one of its allied publishers.
ally involved.
Risk Management
The self-disclosure link to inappropriate psychotherapist behav-
ior was used frequently enough in court that insurance companies
became interested in limiting psychotherapist self-disclosure as a
way to limit risk. Self-disclosure was viewed by malpractice
insurers as a problem for two related reasons. First, it was viewed
as a step down the path toward sex. For sexual involvement to
occur between psychotherapist and patient, the relationship had to
evolve from a therapeutic one to an intimate one. Self-disclosure
was seen as a step. It would seem that, in most cases, self-
disclosure would increasingly occur as the therapeutic relationship
transformed itself into a personal one. The psychotherapist would
reveal personal information while seeking sympathy and emo-
tional closeness from the patient. If this step could be prevented,
the rest of the chain of events would also, hopefully, be prevented
(Williams, 1997). Malpractice insurers had an obvious vested
interest in preventing sex claims, so they developed a similar
interest in preventing self-disclosure.
The second reason malpractice insurers found themselves op-
posed to self-disclosure was this: They have a vested interest in
preventing false claims (see Williams, 2000) of psychotherapist-
patient sex from being filed. Even if no wrongdoing, negligence, or
malpractice has occurred, defending a malpractice claim is costly
for an insurance company as well as emotionally and financially
draining for the clinician. Because excessive self-disclosure can
give the appearance of sexual intimacy— by virtue of the patient
possibly having personal knowledge about the psychotherapist that
only a lover would seem to have—malpractice insurers advocated
that psychotherapists restrict self-disclosure. In risk management
continuing education programs psychotherapists were bombarded
with admonitions to be judicious about their self-disclosure (Zur,
2007). These programs probably did more to create the impression
that self-disclosure was disreputable than any other source.
Self-Disclosure Redux—Self-Disclosure Is Negligent in
and of Itself
An interesting evolution occurred in the practices of attorneys
who specialized in psychotherapy cases. By the 1990s, psycho-
therapy malpractice insurance policies had drastically limited cov-
erage for sex claims on the basis that psychotherapist-patient sex
was not a known or accepted risk of psychotherapy. As of today,
27
no malpractice policy will pay a claim based on psychotherapist-
patient sex, and some policies severely curtail coverage even when
sex is only part of a larger claim (Williams, 2008). This change in
coverage caused attorneys to reconsider their legal theories for
filing suits against psychotherapists. Attorneys who had learned
about self-disclosure and other boundary matters for the purpose of
pursuing sex claims saw that they could use this knowledge to file
a new kind of claim, based not on sex, but on nonsexual boundary
violations. Ironically, some attorneys became more schooled in
boundaries and ethics than many psychologists. Excessive self-
disclosure could be the basis for a claim that a breakdown of
boundaries led to an unethical multiple relationship— even in the
absence of sexual transgressions. The claim would be predicated
on the notion that the relationship violates the APA Ethics Code
(2002) by virtue of its being a multiple relationship that includes
both psychotherapy and a personal friendship, which results in, at
minimum, an unethical loss of the psychotherapist’s objectivity.
Expert testimony in such cases can prove dizzying for a jury.
Who are they to believe: the expert who says the self-disclosure
was absolutely inappropriate, or the expert who say it was abso-
lutely acceptable? Theoretical battles between psychodynamically
inclined and humanistically inclined psychotherapists now get
waged in civil courts and before licensing boards rather than,
harmlessly, in academia.
Conclusion
Self-disclosure is a potentially important and powerful thera-
peutic tool and treatment technique that may be of great value to
the psychotherapy process when used appropriately and in the
service of the client’s treatment needs. Zur does psychotherapy a
service by rehabilitating and reconsidering self-disclosure, espe-
cially in light of the ubiquity of the Internet increasing the likeli-
hood that psychotherapist self-disclosure will occur. After being
tarnished by dogmatic psychoanalytic attacks, on the one hand,
and fear-based insurance company attacks on the other, Zur’s work
is badly needed to restore balance and rational thinking to the
realm of self-disclosure.
References
Alexander, F., & French, T. M. (1946). Psychoanalytic psychotherapy.
New York: Ronald Press.
American Psychological Association. (2002). Ethical principles of psy-
chologists and code of conduct. American Psychologist, 57, 1060 –1073.
Greenson, R. (1967). The technique and practice of psychoanalysis. New
York: International Universities Press.
Jourard, S. M. (1971). The transparent self. New York: D. Van Nostrand.
Marquis, J. M. (1972). An expedient model for behavior psychotherapy. In
A. A. Lazarus (Ed.), Clinical behavior psychotherapy, pp. 41–72.
Pope, K. S., Tabachnick, B. G., & Keith-Spiegel, P. (1987). Ethics of
practice: The beliefs and behaviors of psychologists as therapists. Amer-
ican Psychologist, 42, 993–1006.
Pope, K. S., & Vasquez, M. J. T. (2007). Ethics in psychotherapy and
counseling: A practical guide. San Francisco: Jossey Bass.
Stricker, G. (1990). Self-disclosure in psychotherapy, In G. Stricker & M.
Fisher (Eds.), Self-disclosure in the therapeutic relationship. New York:
Plenum, pp. 277–290.
Williams, M. H. (1997). Boundary violations: Do some contended stan-
dards of care fail to encompass commonplace procedures of humanistic,
behavioral and eclectic psychotherapies? Psychotherapy, 34, 239 –249.
 28 ZUR, WILLIAMS, LEHAVOT, AND KNAPP
Williams, M. H. (2000). Victimized by ‘victims:’ A taxonomy of anteced-
ents of false complaints against psychotherapists. Professional Psychol-
ogy: Research and Practice, 31, 75– 81.
Williams, M. H. (2008). A malpractice ghost story. Independent Practi-
tioner, 28 (4), 192–193.
Zur, O. (2007). Boundaries in psychotherapy. Washington, DC: American
Psychological Association.
Is Being Exposed All Bad? Implications of
Internet Self-Disclosures for Psychotherapists,
Clients, and Graduate Students
Keren Lehavot
This article is intended solely for the personal use of the individual user and is not to be disseminated broadly.
This document is copyrighted by the American Psychological Association or one of its allied publishers.
University of Washington
Zur’s article on the ever-changing process of psychotherapist
self-disclosure due to Internet technologies touches on an increas-
ingly relevant and timely topic for psychologists. The Internet has
become an indispensable and frequently used tool by clients and
psychotherapists alike for both professional and personal purposes.
For example, a recent survey found that eight in ten Internet users
have looked online for health information, including information
on particular health-care professionals (Fox, 2005). It is reasonable
to suspect that this number will only grow with future generations,
further highlighting the importance of considering the Internet’s
impact on psychotherapists’ work with their clients.
Zur reviews six levels through which clients may obtain infor-
mation about psychotherapists online, moving from less to more
intrusive methods (e.g., reviewing clinicians’ professional web-
sites to conducting illegal invasive searches). He describes the
third level as one where clients join social networking sites such as
MySpace or Facebook. Social networking sites, which allow users
to post personal information, blogs, photos, music, and network
with others, are becoming increasingly popular; in fact, MySpace
has become the sixth-largest “country” in the world, having more
monthly visitors than any other site and experiencing more rapid
growth than any other Internet site in history (Rosen, 2007). Zur
describes clients potentially using a fake name to as a ploy to
befriend the clinician on such sites. While this is certainly possible,
I wonder if it is more common for clients to be more transparent:
asking to “friend” their clinician with their own identity or even
raising this possibility in psychotherapy. This possibility, in addi-
tion to all the levels through which clients may obtain information
about psychotherapists online, raises the issue of clinicians being
prepared to use the Internet’s implications for self-disclosure as an
opportunity to explore client behaviors and to have thought about
their own personal policies regarding such matters.
Opportunities Raised by Internet-Enabled Transparencies
Clients intruding into psychotherapists’ personal lives in the
Internet age may feel scary, making us feel vulnerable and more
exposed than we ever have been before. But from a clinical
perspective, it also raises great opportunity to explore issues re-
lated to trust, relationships, and boundaries (Barnett, 2008;
Lehavot, 2008).
Just as psychotherapist self-disclosure can only be understood
within the context of psychotherapy, so too can clients actively
obtaining information about psychotherapists only be understood
within the context of psychotherapy. In other words, such a be-
havior may be within a class of behaviors to either increase or
decrease, depending on its implications. On the one hand, for
example, a psychotherapist would reinforce a passive client who is
being active regarding their health care, checking provider creden-
tials online or assertively bringing up questions in psychotherapy
about the appropriate level or amount of contact on the Internet.
On the other hand, the same behavior could be related to client
problems in another context. For example, imagine a client who
discloses that she has “Googled” her psychotherapist and gone to
great lengths to check the psychotherapist’s credentials and edu-
cational background. If this client has difficulties connecting with
others due to mistrust, this behavior may have direct relevance for
the issues to be worked on in psychotherapy. It provides an
opportunity for the clinician and client to explore how the behavior
relates to ways in which the client attempts to form and maintain
trust, whether such efforts are successful or effective, and their
impact on the relationship. What is the impact of such behaviors on
the therapeutic relationship? Is this a theme or a pattern that occurs
with significant others in the client’s life?
Similarly, when a client asks to “friend” their psychotherapist on
a social networking site, the function of the behavior needs to be
considered within the context of psychotherapy. The clinician may
wish to consider several questions in conceptualizing this behav-
ior. What would being “friends” on the site mean to the client? Is
the client exploring the boundaries of the therapeutic relationship?
Does he or she tend to push boundaries in relationships? Is the
client making an attempt to feel more connected to the psycho-
therapist? By extension, is the client making similar efforts to form
deeper connections with others in his or her life? By paying
thoughtful attention to the function of the client obtaining infor-
mation about the clinician online, the psychotherapist can examine
this behavior as an opportunity to enhance the client’s treatment.
Note that this does not mean the clinician should accept the client’s
“friend” request per se (this consideration is reviewed below), but
rather provides a framework from which to understand and exam-
ine the behavior.
Beyond implications of the client’s behavior, there is also the
practical consideration of how psychotherapists should proceed in
regards to interactions with clients online. Should a psychothera-
pist have the same policy regarding their online interactions for
everyone—a one size fits all? Or should the decision of whether,
for example, to “friend” a client on a social networking site be
made individually, depending on the function for that particular
client?
In considering this question, contacts with clients on social
networking sites should be viewed like any other multiple rela-
tionship. As the APA Ethics Code (APA, 2002) states in Standard
3.05, Multiple Relationships, multiple relationships should be
avoided if they could reasonably be expected to impair the psy-
chologist’s effectiveness or cause harm. At the same time, “mul-
tiple relationships that would not reasonably be expected to cause
impairment or risk exploitation or harm are not unethical” (p.
1065). Thus, psychologists should give careful consideration to
social networking with clients and only engage in this if not
counter to therapeutic goals and clients’ well-being. It may be
useful to create a policy that applies to all clients (e.g., not
accepting online “friend” requests), but to use that decision in
 PSYCHOTHERAPISTS’ SELF-DISCLOSURE
different ways depending on client needs. For one client, this
might mean setting limits and being strict with other boundaries
(e.g., the client obtaining information online is in a class of
behaviors the psychotherapist aims to decrease). For another, it
might mean exploring in greater depth how to deepen the thera-
peutic connection through other self-disclosures that foster the
alliance (e.g., the client obtaining information online is in a class
of behaviors the psychotherapist aims to increase).
What Are the Students Doing? Providing Ethical Training
in the Internet Age
As the Internet continues to experience growth and increase in
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This document is copyrighted by the American Psychological Association or one of its allied publishers.
popularity, current and new generations of graduate students are
especially likely to engage with the Internet and social networking
sites (Lehavot, 2007, 2008). Indeed, in an exploratory survey of
about 300 graduate students, 82% of whom were student psycho-
therapists, 37% had a MySpace profile, 33% a Facebook profile,
and 20% used other social Web sites (Lehavot, 2008). These
students have grown up with the Internet, and making online
personal disclosures is part of the social fabric of their everyday
life. This activity is so automatic that students may need support in
examining their online activity thoughtfully through a clinical lens.
Thus, training programs need to provide students with guidance in
considering how their online activity intersects with their profes-
sional role as psychologists.
Faculty who train clinical students and supervisors should dis-
cuss the implications of online disclosures with students. These
conversations should occur both on a macro level, in a classroom
or program orientation setting that brings student attention to these
issues, and on a micro level, in one-on-one discussions between
clinical supervisors and students. In a classroom setting, for ex-
ample, students should be guided through questions regarding the
costs and benefits of posting personal information online, the
probability that others will be significantly and negatively affected
by such information, ways in which they can restrict access to their
information, and how such disclosures may impact relationships
with clients (Lehavot, 2007). In one-on-one conversations, the
supervisor and student should consider the implications of online
disclosures for the particular clinical situation and the clients with
whom the student is working. Attention to these issues will help
raise student awareness to the professional, ethical, and clinical
implications of their online use, prevent unforeseeable ethical
dilemmas that may occur later during the graduate student’s career,
and support the student in developing an identity and role as a
psychologist.
So, is being exposed all bad? Should we fear Internet technol-
ogies as they expand and make our personal lives easier to tap into
than ever before? Certainly, we need to be thoughtful about what
we post online and careful about whom we grant access to our
personal information. But we can also embrace the opportunity
Internet self-disclosures offer us with respect to our clients’ treat-
ment. When clients seek or obtain online information about their
psychotherapists, this may be used as clinically relevant informa-
tion to further help clients reach their therapeutic goals. This and
related challenges the Internet presents may prove to be untapped
resources that, when mined, hold significant promise.
29
References
American Psychological Association. (2002). Ethical principles of psy-
chologists and code of conduct. American Psychologist, 57, 1060 –1073.
Barnett, J. E. (2008, August). MySpace, YouTube, psychotherapy, and
professional relationships – Crisis or opportunity? Symposium pre-
sented at the 116th Annual Convention of the American Psychological
Association, Boston, Massachusetts.
Fox, S. (2005, May). Health information online. Washington, DC: Pew
Internet and American Life Project.
Lehavot, K. (2007, August). “MySpace” or yours? The ethical dilemma of
graduate students’ personal lives on the Internet. Presentation at the
Annual Convention of the American Psychological Association, San
Francisco, California.
Lehavot, K. (2008, August). Graduate students’ use, misuse, and nonuse of
social websites. In J. E. Barnett (Chair), MySpace, YouTube, psycho-
therapy, and professional relationships – Crisis or opportunity? Sym-
posium presented at the 116th Annual Convention of the American
Psychological Association, Boston, Massachusetts.
Rosen, L. D. (2007). Me, MySpace, and I: Parenting the Net generation.
New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Psychologists Transparency and the Internet
Samuel Knapp
Pennsylvania Psychological Association
Dr. Zur discusses how patients can get access to personal
information about their psychologist. This can occur through self-
disclosure or through public information which is increasing be-
cause of the internet. As it applies to self-disclosure, Dr. Zur
appropriately notes that unavoidable disclosures can occur in rural
towns or “small communities,” such as narrowly defined interest
groups, cultural groups, or religious groups within large cities. For
example, a Buddhist psychologist in a large city often gets requests
for therapy from fellow Buddhist in the same city where he lives,
in part because they know him (or know of him), and in part
because they want someone who understands their world view.
Dr. Zur classifies self-disclosures as appropriate, benign, or
inappropriate. Dr. Zur accurately identifies the central issue that
appropriate self-disclosures must focus on the patient’s welfare
and have a clinical rationale. The decision to engage in appropriate
self-disclosure may be influenced by the theoretical orientation of
the psychologist, the culture or the previous experiences of the
patients. For example, Wright (1999) described the effective use of
self-disclosure with an angry African American teenager. The
client did not cooperate with treatment until she disclosed her own
experiences of racism in an effort to validate his feelings without
colluding with his own racist thoughts. A psychologist who is
uncertain whether a self-disclosure is helping the patient or not,
always has the option of explaining why the self-disclosure was
done and soliciting feedback on its impact on the client/patient.
Benign self-disclosures include “everyday disclosures, such as
accent, skin color, mannerisms, office decor, etc.” However, some
benign self-disclosures can be made therapeutic. For example, one
psychologist who treated a large number of Latino/a patients had
Mexican art in her waiting room and had the radio in the waiting
room turned onto a Spanish-language radio station. Or a psychol-
ogist who treats a lot of families and children may have art or
music in the waiting room which is of more interest to children.
 30 ZUR, WILLIAMS, LEHAVOT, AND KNAPP
Dr. Zur appropriately notes that with the greater access to
information on the Internet, patients can learn more about their
psychologists then they could in the past. I personally am unaware
of patients who have engaged in what Dr. Zur refers to as the third,
fourth, fifth, or sixth levels of inquiring about their psychothera-
pists online. These levels range from joining online social net-
works with the goal of befriending the psychotherapists, to hiring
hackers, to conduct illegal or invasive Internet searches of the
psychologist. Nonetheless, the points concerning the need to be
vigilant about on line posting is valid. I am aware of cases where
a client was being evaluated by a psychologist for forensic pur-
poses and entered the evaluation room armed with the personal
information he learned about the psychologist from the Internet.
This article is intended solely for the personal use of the individual user and is not to be disseminated broadly.
Gentile, Asamen, Harmell and Weathers (2002) reported that
This document is copyrighted by the American Psychological Association or one of its allied publishers.
10% of psychologists in their sample had been stalked at least once
in the more traditional sense of the word. It is reasonable to assume
that the same personality dynamics that drive some clients/patients
to follow and harass people will also drive them to cyberstalk their
victims as well. Although I have found no data on the cyberstalk-
ing of psychologists for the public in general, cyberstalking often
occurs in conjunction with other forms of stalking and includes
unique challenges such as the ability of the cyberstalker to imper-
sonate the victim on line (Department of Justice 1999).
Consequently, I have encouraged psychologists to Google-
search themselves to find out what information about them is
available on the Web. I would also suggest that psychologists
Google-search the names of their close family members as well, as
they could also become victims of cyberstalking as well. Very
often psychologists, their children, or other family members may
have posting on MySpace, FaceBook, or other online services. Dr.
Zur notes that it may be useful to include several variations of the
name in the search. Furthermore, I recommend that my doctoral
students Google-search themselves. In addition to the risk that
patients may learn things about them, potential practicum or in-
ternship sites or potential employers now typically Google-search
applicants. Young adults may not be aware that a posting made
several years ago while they were in college is still online and may
detract from the image of professionalism that they wish to con-
vey.
Although Dr. Zur does not raise this issues in his article, another
way in which the names of psychologists or comments about
psychologists may occur on the Internet is through online adver-
tising directories where clients/patients rate or comment on their
health-care providers. From the directories I have seen, many
psychologists have only a few patients’ ratings and the comments
are usually vague. Although these postings have to be read with the
bias of the poster in mind, they nonetheless have the potential to be
yet another source of information about the psychotherapists.
References
Department of Justice. (1999). Cyberstalking: A new challenge for law en-
forcement and industry; A report from the Attorney General to the Vice
President. Washington, DC: Department of Justice. Retrieved November
10, 2008, from www.usdoj.gov/criminal/cyberissues/cyberrstaling.htm
Gentile, S., Asamen, J., Harmell, P., & Weathers, R. (2002). The stalking
of psychologists by their clients. Professional Psychology: Research and
Practice, 33, 490 – 495.
Wright, H. J. (1999). Cultural competence: The key to working with African-
American adolescents. In L. VandeCreek, & T. Jackson (Eds.), Innovations
in clinical practice, Vol. 17 (pp. 205–216). Sarasota, FL: Professional
Resource Press.
Received September 4, 2008
Revision received November 12, 2008
Accepted November 13, 2008 䡲